Cul de sac

As soon as the elevator door opens, a well-appointed lobby welcomed her with open arms. “Miss Bublik will be with you shorty, please take a seat.” With that cold sentence still ringing in her ears she sat in the furthest chair available. Impressionist paintings adorned the faint pink walls that surround her. On her left, a glass window makes the entrance to a bigger hall, the hive of activity where all this magic happens rest behind that glass window.

“Johanna? Hi, Norma Bublik. We finally meet. How was your trip?” Johanna was greeted by this tall, slender, black haired woman. Norma is the head chief of this department. Her job is to keep this side of the operation running smoothly. She has the final decision regarding who is able to take the seat for any offering.

“It was alright, we got to Tampa yesterday. Vince is right now finishing things up with the Realtor, our new home is marvelous.” With bright eyes Johanna shows her content on this new chapter on her life. Her long nights studying Psychology are starting to pay off.

“Lovely, follow me, let me show you your desk.” As soon as she enters, she is being greeted by a row of cubicles neatly organized. Around 10 different spots one next to the other is all she could see. As they pass behind the row of counselors, she can feel her heartbeat rush at the sight of her new workplace. After three weeks of training and multiple calls with another trainee, she feels more than prepared to accomplish this new task. Since an early age she wanted to help people, she knew that she had to choose a career path where she could make a difference every day. But she’s aware that there’s still a lot to learn when it comes to understanding the way our mind works.

“This is your working area, username and password inside the folder. Log in, you’ll be available for online chat immediately.” As soon as she touches the keyboard, her face lights up by the glare of the two 32 inches’ monitors.

“Remember that at 4pm sharp you got to be at Conference room, it only takes 15mins, Group 1 starts at 4pm, group 2 at 4:20pm. You’re part of group 1.”

“Thanks Norma, I’ll be there.” And without saying anything else Ms. Bublik left Johanna alone at her workstation. As soon as she finished setting up her desk, she goes online and nervously waits for any notification. In no less than 4mins online, the first chat notification lights up at the bottom of the screen and without hesitation she takes her first online private chat.

Following a deep breath, she diligently begins to write, “Hi, my name is Johanna, how can I help you today.” As she presses the enter bottom, she sees that the person on the other side of the conversation is typing. With great anticipation she waits for the finished message to come through.

“Can you help me? I need to find an affordable counselor, can’t keep on doing this on my own.” As you can see, the message was only a cry for help. She took her time, gave the requested information and made sure that the person on the other line was safe and free of danger. She thought for herself, “That was not bad, simple and effective. Let’s see what the future brings.”

A new notification comes alive; this time is a phone call. She adjust her hands-free headset and gets to work.

“Hi, my name is Johanna, how can I help you today?” After an awkward pause the person on the other side of the line takes a deep breath and starts talking.

“I need help, too much on my plate right now.”

Johanna responds without hesitation: “Sometimes we think that everything is lost, we all need a helping hand, we’re here to help.”

Another moment of awkward silence and then...

“I NEED MORE THAN A HELPING HAND! THIS GOT OUT OF CONTROL!” Yells the man losing his temper!

“Why don’t you tell me what bothers you? Can you please tell me your name? ” Asks maintaining a calm tone Johanna. She knows from experience that the caller must be under a huge amount of stress, her work is to gain his trust, not to push him over.

“My relationship, my work, my family, I got nowhere to run to. It would be better for me and for everybody else if I start all over.” She didn’t like the tone on the "Start all over” line. She must act and take control of the situation right away.

“Do you feel suicidal? That’s not the solution, believe me, there’s light at the end of the tunnel.”

“HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT? Do you know how it feels to go to sleep and wish to never see another day?” the angered caller replied defiantly!

“Believe me, I do. Do you have a plan? Are you in danger?”

“Why you want me to revisit my plan? Yes, I DO have a plan, what can you expect?”

Johanna quickly tries to gain as much information as possible.

“What’s your plan, are you in danger?”

“My plan is simple, nothing fancy about it.” Counter strike the caller.

“Can you tell me about it? I can send help right away!”

“I just want to be someone, that’s all!”

Johanna sees the opportunity to dig a little into his story and without hesitation strikes back.

“You are someone, you’re worth the effort.”

“I feel invisible, and as such I will leave. I don’t want to be remembered, I want to be forgotten, just like a bad dream, a bad dream and nothing more.”

“How do you plan to do so?”

“I live on the 28th floor; impact windows are not meant to be opened. But, when there’s a will there’s a way, am I right? I can always easily perform my dignified escape from the balcony…” Leaving an awkward six seconds gap of silence, he decides to continue with this dreadful line:

“I have sat on the hand rail before, is not difficult to have too many glasses of wine and stupidly sit on the balcony handrail…” Not leaving time for him to keep on dwelling on the thought of jumping, Johanna asks:

“Are you drinking right now? Are you in danger? I can make someone to come to your place and give you personalized help right away…” Another seven seconds of anguishing silence and then:

“I’ll make sure the glass lands near me, it will look as an accident. Accidents happens all the time, am I right? Alcohol makes everyone clumsy, no exception here.”

Johanna feels like he is actually in the spot he is describing; she must act quick.

“There’s still more to life you know; you must have something that makes you dream with your eyes open. To quit life is not the solution, believe me.”

The caller takes a few seconds to digest what Johanna have said and adds:

“I feel the outside feeding from my insides. Darkness is all I can see Johanna.”

“That’s a very poetic way to describe what you’re feeling, are you an artist?” Inquires Johanna.

“I play piano, 29 long years of proper study for nothing.”

“Why you say that? Do you have a piano at home?”

“I do.”

“Can you play something for me?”

“What for?”

“Please, it will make you feel better, believe me.”

"There's no use, I got nothing to offer."

"Play something, anything will do, I just want to hear you playing."

“Alright, wait a minute.”

She can hear the sound of the bench scrapping on the floor, rustle of paper and then utter silence. Suddenly a G minor chord in the lower register followed by a lush arpeggio gives this impression of a blurred, dreamy sound. Like magic, harmony and timbre blends together providing a beautiful melody that flows between different pitches.

More and more notes come and go masterfully played by the caller. Waves of sound become electricity to finally hit the thin metal disc on the handheld receiver to reproduce this lush sound; but out of the sudden it stops abruptly.

“Why did you stop? I love it.” From the other side of the line adds Johanna. The caller takes a deep breath and adds:

“It’s not finished yet.”

Johanna bewildered replies:

“What you mean, did you write that?”

“Yes, it’s mine, is not that good, a waste of time.”

“You’re wrong about that. I can feel a strong influence of Impressionism in your work. The way you played the arpeggios, the dissonance, There’s a lot of Ravel and Debussy in your music.”

“Hmmm, you’re a music enthusiast, nice.”

“I play flute since my pre-teen days, Debussy is not a stranger to my repertoire.” Replied Johanna cheerfully.

“I see; do you still play?”

“I do, my instrument is my trustful companion, if my flute could talk.”

“I know what you mean Johanna, the piano used to be my escape from this bitter existence.”

“You should finish that piece, is really good. I like it.”

“I don’t have much time left, it took me a lot of time to finish those six pages of black dots on pentagram. There’s no use.”

“You’re wrong about that, your composition took me on a journey. I could feel the music unfold right in front of me. You’re a skilled musician, don’t waste all that talent.”

Eight seconds of silence bonded the two musicians, could they be thinking about the same combination of notes? Is the same motif still ringing in their mind’s eye?

“I could try to continue with my composition.”

“That will surely make me happy. Does it have a name?”

“I’ve never thought about it… Now that you ask… CUL DE SAC! Hahaha!” They both laugh at the peculiar name for this piece of music.

“Interesting, does it feel like a dead-end street to you?”

“Not really, it’s more about the literal meaning in French, “The arse of the bag.” That’s how I feel, I’m at the bottom of the bag, no one wants to be me, I'm the last in line."

“Ohhh… You’re talented. That’s a shame you feel this way. You need to believe in yourself, finish it, you’ll be surprised!"

Another few seconds of silence followed her statement.

“I will, thanks Johanna, this is taking too long, do you have a direct extension? I want to play it for you.”

“Sorry, I’m not allowed to give you that kind of information.”

“Then I’ll call again when it’s ready, I'll ask for you.”

“That’s not the way things work here, this is a Suicide Prevention Hotline.”

“I’ll find a way. Thanks Johanna, enjoy the rest of your day.”

“You too.” The caller put the telephone down, deafening silence is all that's left on Johanna's head-set earphone.